Hoodoo-Witchy-Woman-At-Large
by moms2398
Summary: Sam meets the healer John and Dean have been going to for years. Season 1, after "Shadows" with references, but no real spoilers. Rating for Het flirting and a moment of language. Please feed the author!


_A/N: Takes place during Season 1, between "Shadows" and "Something Wicked". _

Vrianna Beauchamp's ears picked up the sound of a rumbling motor approaching her house. She lived so far out of the way that it could only mean a visitor. She prayed for a friend and fingered the charm that hung from a leather cord around her neck. As far as anyone could see, it was her zodiac symbol inside a pentagram but on the back was an anti-possession symbol that had been blessed by a hoodoo priest.

She looked out the window and smiled at the sight of an old, black '67 Chevy Impala, kept in very good condition, pull to a stop. She moved quickly to the door and out to her porch, where she moved a hen out of the way with a gentle sweep of her foot.

Two tall men got out of the car, badly bloodied. The driver she'd come to know well over the years. The other she didn't know. She rushed to the edge of her porch and called out. "Dean Winchester! What have you done to yerself?! And who'd ya bring with ya?"

Dean, whose face had parallel gashes like claw marks, on his forehead, as well as a cut above his right eye, looked up at her as he slammed the door to his car. The other man had similar claw marks on his left cheek and a cut on the bridge of his nose along with a deep purple bruise on his right cheekbone, just under his eye.

"We're in bad shape, Vee," Dean responded. "Wonder if we can take advantage of your hospitality for a bit?"

"You got someone tailin' ya?"

Dean looked behind him. "Not as far as I could see."

She harrumphed at his answer but motioned them up. "Come on in with ya, then. Mind yer feet."

Dean waited for his passenger and the two of the them climbed the three steps up to the porch and through the worn wooden screen door.

Vrianna – or Vee, as Dean called her – stood, at her tallest, barely five-foot-tall, with ample bosoms and rounded hips but a narrow waist and a flat belly. Her hair was dark, thick and curly, but she quickly twisted it up into a kind of a bun. Her green eyes, under thick lashes and arched eyebrows, set into light brown skin completed a look of mixed heritage that was striking.

As the men entered her run-down old house whose exterior seemed a lot worse than the interior, she turned to them. "Who is this, Dean?"

"My brother, Sam," Dean answered in a tired tone. "We could use your help, Vee."

"Of course! Whenever should a Winchester darken my door but when he be needin' somethin'?! Never stoppin' by to just be social. Sit and let me have a look at ya."

"Sam first," Dean said.

"Dean –" The younger, but taller man protested.

"Shut up." Dean declared. Then to Vee, he repeated. "Sam first."

Vee's eyes flashed. "Here, now! There's no call to be rude, Dean!" She looked Sam over and then looked at Dean. "Let me go get some clean rags and water to start. Sit at the table," she returned with two ceramic bowls filled with water with a cloth floating in each and towels over her arms. She put one bowl in front of Sam and one in front of Dean.

"What got a hold-a you boys? Looks like you went a few rounds with a hellhound."

"Daeva," Dean supplied.

Sam frowned his surprise at Dean.

"Don't worry, Sam," Vee clucked. Taking his chin in her hand, using her other to squeeze water from the cloth and wipe dried blood from his face. "I'm fully versed in the life. No secrets are lost here."

"Who are you?"

"Yer brother didn't tell ya?" She smiled down at him. "Vrianna Beauchamp, Hoodoo-Witchy-Woman-At-Large."

Sam pulled back from her and she laughed out loud.

"She's a medicine woman, Sam. Dad and I have been coming to her for years."

She took hold of Sam's chin again and went back to work. "How is the elder Winchester?"

"'Bout like us," Dean growled.

"Then, where is he?"

"Gone," Sam said, lowly, with an accusatory look toward Dean.

She looked from Sam to Dean and back. "I'm thinkin' ya mean 'gone' as in left the premises, not 'gone' as in dearly departed?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "He had a job," he fidgeted in his chair as she finished cleaning Sam's face. "You got anything to drink?"

She looked over toward the wall near Dean. "Jus' not the clear stuff."

Dean stood and limped to the table by the wall, uncorked the amber bottle and poured three fingers into one glass and two fingers in the other two. He took his back and put the other two in front of Sam.

Sam pushed it away. Vee finished cleaning his face and pushed it back toward him, with a chuckle. "Drink it. You're gonna wanna be numb when I get back."

She moved to Dean and began to clean his face. Dean kept his green eyes fastened on her chest as she did. After a bit, she clucked. "There's still no heart in there if that's what you're lookin' for."

He looked up to see her raised eyebrow looking down at him, reproachfully. "Just making sure," he responded with a grin.

"How long you an' John been comin' here?"

Dean shrugged. "Since you and I were 16."

"_I_ was sixteen. _You_ were a smug thirteen-year-old smartass."

Dean grinned.

"In all those years, you never brought Sam. Why now?"

Dean glanced at Sam. "Just didn't. Then he was away at college…"

"I know about college. Yer dad was proud – and relieved, I think."

"Relieved?" Sam frowned, picking up the drink.

"Yeah," Vee said. "What, ya think folks _want_ their kids to stay in the life? Drink. Both o' ya."

She walked out of the room.

"You and Dad have been coming here since I was nine and I never heard about it?"

Dean shrugged. "Dad only brought me because he was hurt and couldn't wait. Back then it was Vee's mom."

"So, you come to a Hoodoo Priestess for medicine?!" Sam seemed incredulous.

"Hold yer tongue!" Vee was suddenly back, leaning against the table between them. She took Sam's jaw firmly in her hand. "I'll give ya thirty seconds to drink, Sammy-boy, before I make ya wish ya had." She released his jaw with a smile that didn't exactly extend to her eyes.

Sam frowned at her but picked up the glass and downed it. Then he looked up at her again, eyes defiant.

She smiled at him, pulling on gloves, and picked up a jar. As she scooped a creamy paste out of it, she said, lowly. "_NOT_ a Hoodoo Priestess, Sam. A medicine woman is all. What yer ancestors would'a burned as a witch without knowin' the difference." She tilted his jaw up to face her. "This'll sting more than a bit."

Sam braced himself.

When she touched the salve to his cuts, it felt cool and he began to relax. Then, suddenly, it felt as if she'd set his face on fire and poured a carbonated beverage on it at the same time.

He cursed and struggled, but her grip on his chin was tighter than someone her size should have.

She began to chant something calmly as she finished treating the other cuts with the same effects. Before the pain became intolerable, it subsided into a dull throbbing that just made him feel like he was developing another black eye.

When she was finished, she moved her hand from his jaw to his head. She murmured something else he didn't understand and then touched the bronze Scorpio symbol around her neck. Then she looked down at him.

"Are ya still with me, there, darlin'?" she cooed.

Sma cleared his throat. "What was that?"

She grinned. "Mama's proprietary blend. It's akin to Neosporan on acid."

"It felt like acid," he grumbled.

"An' not everyone makes it through with their wits. Why, yer father was out nearly an hour his first time."

"To be fair," Dean frowned. "HE was nearly cut in half."

"Pshaw! He had one wound as long the three of Sam's put together and on his gut, not his face. Let's see how you do this time," She move to the other side of him.

He put his hands on her hips and moved her to stand between his legs instead of off to the side.

"Still fresh," Vee chuckled.

"Beauty takes a man's pain away. This way I'll be able to focus on something other than what you're doing to my face."

Sam rose and went to pour himself another drink to numb the throbbing as she took hold of Dean's chin and place the salve on his face.

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean swore after a moment, moving his hands to the table on either side of her, balled into white knuckled fists. He kept his eyes focused on her while she worked and said nothing more after the first expletive. The white knuckled fists were the only indication of his continued discomfort.

"There now, all finished," She cooed. "And yer still with me. Good fer you!" She peeled off the glove as Dean leaned back in his chair. "Now, what else?"

Sam's eyebrow rose. "What?"

"Was a Daeva that gotcha, right? Did she only tear at ya or drag ya 'round a bit?"

"More like knocked us around," Sam said.

Dean frowned at Sam. "But it's nothing we can't handle," he groused as he took the drink from Sam.

Vee chuckled. "Uh-huh, sure! Shirts off!" She commanded.

"What?"

"If ya come to me for healin', I'm not doin' a half-assed job of it. Now, darlin', off with yer shirt. If yer all good, you can cover up again right quick. C'mon Dean. You've been starin' at m'girls since ya got here. Only fair I should get a peek at yer abs." Her tone turned from commanding to gentle teasing.

Sam smiled, despite the throbbing in his cheek – which lessened with time. Dean looked at him and shrugged.

Both Winchesters peeled off their shirts.

"Now, if ya didn't have purple decorations, I'd call this Christmas." Vee shook her head and went to Sam. She rubbed her hands together to warm them, then gently touched his ribs. She picked up a bottle and poured a small amount of what looked like lotion on her hands. She lightly rubbed the lotion on his bruises. as she asked. "Feel bruised or worse?"

He looked down at the tiny woman and grinned. "Just bruised. No broken bones, ma'am."

She looked up at him sharply and narrowed her eyes at him. "Doncha be tryin' to get on m' good side, Samuel Winchester. I don't have one."

He normally objected to being called Samuel or Sammy but, for some reason, he didn't feel the need to correct Vee. She ducked behind him and touched an area of his back.

"Well, ya _seem_ okay." She moved toward Dean.

"Can I put my shirt back on?"

She turned back to him with a frown. "In a hurry to ruin m' fun, are ya? Fine."

He chuckled as he put his shirt back on.

After putting more lotion in her hands, she raised Dean's arm and touched the bruise that went there from his back, then she stepped behind him and touched the bruise on his back. "Nearly broke a rib here. Dean-o."

"Almost only counts with hand grenades."

She slapped his shoulder with a loud clap.

"Hey!"

"Hush!" She scolded. She walked to a drawer and pulled out a green pad with an ace bandage attached to it. "Arms up."

"Vee, I don't need that," Dean protested.

"You can wear it overnight an' sleep or not wear it an' spend a week tryin' ta get comfortable enough to sleep."

"Dean!" Sam said. "Just wear it. Your back looks pretty bad."

After she'd wrapped the pad around Dean, she handed him his flannel. "Save the T-shirt for tomorrow. I don't want you shiftin' that bandage."

"Yes, ma'am."

Vee poked him in the stomach. "First ya try to make us the same age, then ya try to make me ancient. Pain in the ass!"

Dean's grin looked tired to Sam, who was feeling the after effects of adrenaline and whiskey himself.

Vree chuckled. "Ah, I see. C'mon. I'll show ya where y'all can bunk for the night."

She led them through to the back of the house where there were four or five small rooms. She indicated a room for each of them – across the hall from each other. "Rest," she instructed. "I'll rouse ya for supper."

Sam followed Dean into his room and watched Dean nearly flop into the bed. "You must really trust her."

"She's saved Dad's life at least once and patched us both us more than a few times. Her mom taught Dad how to make holy water and about demon traps. Gave him one of the books we have. Her family's" Dean stifled a yawn. "Been helping hunters since her great-great-grandmother escaped slavery."

"But hoodoo?"

Dean grunted. "Uh-huh, the good kind."

Sam saw that his brother's eyes were closed so he walked across the hall and lay on the bed to wait. Not to sleep but to wait.

Sam woke with Vee standing next to his bed, turning on the lamp. He blinked. "What time is it?"

"Suppertime if yer hungry. If not, go back to sleep. It's the best healer."

"Dean?"

"Washin' up. That man's appetites are what drives him, I think."

Sam sat up and smiled. "Yeah."

"And you, Sam, what drives you?" Vee took his chin her hand and looked at her handiwork on his face.

"What do you mean?"

Vee smiled down at him. "I see it now. The same that's fuelin' yer father's fire, fuels yours, I think. I'm sorry for your loss." Her eyes met his with honesty.

"Are you psychic?" he asked.

She smiled. "Just practiced. Hunters been comin' 'round since long before I was born. I helped Ma tend 'em since I was old enough to stand and hold a jar." She released his chin and stepped back. "I've seen the look in yer eyes before."

Sam nodded. Then, placing his hands on his thighs, he stood.

She looked up at him and shook her head. "An' I thought your brother was tall," she clucked. She stepped to his side, looping her arm around his. "Come, let's get ya some food."

He smiled at her, then, and walked with her out of the room he'd slept in, down the hall to the room where she'd treated their wounds. The table was now set for three with a large pot on the table. Dean was sitting at the table, already, with a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

"Seriously, Vee," he groused. "When can I take off the bandages? They're starting to itch."

She shook her head and looked up to Sam. "He'll drive more than 12 hours to get treatment but can't keep a bandage on for more than a few hours."

Sam smiled.

Dean grumbled. "Can we just eat?"

Sam moved toward a chair and then stopped. "Wait, how do you know how long we drove?"

Vee smiled. "The cards told me."

Sam looked at Dean, who shrugged. Sam frowned, but sat without another word.

Vee served the stew that was in the pot and they ate, discussing hunter things, like the last time they ran into this hunter or that and who hunted what and where. For being at the end of a dead-end road in the middle of the Louisiana bayou, Vee was remarkably well-informed – she continued to credit "the cards" until Dean called her on it.

Then she pointed out the computer in the corner. "My computer's _name_ is 'The Cards'." She laughed, then, at their consternation.

Sam shook his head, laughing. "I was convinced you _were_ psychic."

Vee winked at him.

Dean harrumphed. "She is," he said as he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.

Sam frowned at him.

"No way that computer told her where we came from," Dean explained after swallowing.

Vee's smile rivaled Mona Lisa's at that point, while she quietly sipped on her own stew.

Sam studied her.

Her eyebrow rose. "You keep starin', Sammy, an' I'm likely to think you want somethin'." She smiled, widely.

"Hey," Dean frowned. "If I'm too young for you, he's _definitely_ too young."

Vee chuckled. "Honey, you were too young for me when I was sixteen. Now that I'm approachin' thirty," she looked back at Sam and winked. "As long as yer legal."

Both Dean's eyebrows went up as did Sam's.

She threw her head back and laughed loudly at their surprise. Then she shook her head. "The looks - aw, Lawd! You can tell y'all are brothers just based on those looks!" She chuckled. "Don't neither one of ya have a chance, anyhow. I ain't lookin' for no hunter, that's fo' sho'!"

Sam grinned and looked at Dean, who chuckled and shook his head.

They continued eating and laughing until the meal was finished, then Sam and Dean insisted on helping Vee clean up. Afterwards, they sat on the old back porch, looking out at the water, drinking bourbon and talking until the moon was on the setting side of the sky. Then Vee chased them off to their separate beds, saying she'd wake them in the morning and check their wounds.

When Sam woke the sun was high in the sky, which was unusual for him. His face didn't feel as beaten up as it had the day before, nor did his body as he sat up and stretched. Just as his feet hit the thin carpet covering the hardwood floor, he heard a knock on the door. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head as he padded to the door and opened it a crack.

Vee was standing there with a smile on her face. "I have brunch, if yer willin'."

Sam nodded. "Sure. I'll be out in a minute." As he pulled on his pants, he could hear her knock on Dean's door and say the same thing to his brother.

When Sam emerged and walked down the hall to the dining room, he was surprised at how much food was there: eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, grits, biscuits and sausage gravy. He looked around and called out for Vee.

"Why, good mornin', sugah!" She swept into the room with a smile and a pot of coffee. "How'd ya sleep?"

"Good. Are you expecting more people?"

She chuckled. "I don't get many visitors, let alone two strappin' men. I might've gone a little overboard." She put the pot on the table. "But it's nothin' to worry about. Whatever don't get eaten, I'll pack up for y'all to take with ya."

Sam smiled. "Well, thank you. You didn't have to go all out like this, but I appreciate it and I know Dean will, too."

"What will Dean do?" a gruff grumble asked from behind them. Dean was rubbing his head, but he stopped when he saw the table, eyes wide. Then he looked at Sam, then Vee.

"Appreciate breakfast," Sam chuckled.

"Oh, hell, yeah!" Dean said, walking to the table. Before sitting, he looked at Vee.

She laughed. "Go on an' sit! Eat up 'fore it gets cold," she moved to another chair and sat herself as Sam and Dean took seats to either side of her.

"First time I met your dad I musta been eight or nine years old."

"So I would have been five or six," Dean looked at Sam, meaningfully.

She frowned at Dean. "Yeah," she chuckled. "I s'pose we established that you're younger than me yesterday."

Dean opened his mouth and shook his head.

They'd finished breakfast and were sitting, drinking coffee and talking. Vee cradled her coffee cup between her two hands as she reminisced.

"Anyway," she continued. "I remember thinkin' he was the biggest, darkest white man I had ever seen." She smiled. "An' he was hurtin'. Another hunter sent him to Ma an' she fixed him up." She looked at Sam, pointedly. "I will tell you this: John Winchester is the kindest man I've ever known."

Sam frowned. "Really?"

"When Mama died, I took it real bad. Hunters came to pay their respects and I'd run 'em off. See, I thought they were comin' to check if the magic died with her or if it lived with me. An' I wasn't havin' it." She took a sip of her coffee. "So, when John came 'round, I run him off too. But I didn't hear that beast out front rev up an' leave, so after a time, I went an' looked out. I saw it, but no sign o' him." She frowned. "I thought 'Where in the hell has that man gone?' and I walked 'round the house lookin' out all the windas. When I got back to the front door, he was standin' there with a hammer in his hand, looking downward. I thought he might be comin' back to bash my head in. But I didn't care. I threw open the door and stepped out on the porch."

"I yelled at him and asked him what he was doin' here and he looked at me with sad eyes an' said 'Step's loose'." She smiled. "Then he placed nails from his other hand on the porch and began fixin' my porch steps! I left the front door open, sat down in parlor an' cried an' cried, 'til suddenly I got this bear of man's arm around me and he's jus' rockin' me an' lettin' me cry."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks of surprise.

"He said if I ever needed anything to give 'im a call. He said," she swallowed, paused, then took a deep breath. "That my Mama was family and so am I. That death don't change that."

Dean nodded. "Sounds right."

She smiled. "Every other hunter I chased off, just left. But not John Winchester. He decided to fix my porch." She looked around the table. "Well, that's enough sentimentality for one day. Help me clear the table, then I'll check yer wounds."

Sam insisted on washing dishes for her as Dean wiped down the table.

After they were finished cleaning, she sat Dean down and peeled off his bandage. Sam's eyes widened when he saw that the claw marks left by the daeva were gone!

"How?!" Sam asked, looking up at Vee as she approached.

She smiled down at him. "Jus' a little Hoodoo Witchery, Sammy." She lifted his chin and peeled back the bandage on his cheek, then the other one. "Dean's back will need another day, I'm sure. But other that, y'all are handsome as I imagine you ever were - considerin' I never met you 'fore yesterday," she grinned at him.

He stood and moved to her fireplace where a mirror sat above it. His face looked like he'd never been in a fight with the daeva. He turned back to look at her. "Wow."

She grinned. Then she walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a mason jar filled with a pale substance. "This is the salve I used on yer wounds. The incantation is on the back label. Won't fix everythin' but it will fix up cuts and lacerations pert' quick. Y'all keep it in the trunk with all the other doodads I know y'all keep in there."

Dean accepted the jar. "Thanks!"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

She nodded. "My pleasure. Now, since I know yer hittin' the road today, you should get goin' before it gets too late."

Dean nodded. "Dad gave us a lead in East Texas -"

She grinned. "I figured. So, let me get ya some vittles for the road an' y'all can be on yer way."

About an hour later, the Winchester brothers were stepping off the porch of Vee's house, sandwiches and medicine in hand.

Vee put her hands on her hips, looking down at them. "You boys know you can call a sista' every once in a while, justa say 'hello', right? An' ya don't have to be hurt to come visit."

Both Sam and Dean grinned. "Yes," Sam said.

"'Course if I thought I had a shot, I might make it a point to come back…" Dean grinned.

She shook her head. "Listen you!" she grinned. "I was thinkin' 'bout, _maybe_, makin' Sammy an offer, but yer right. If yer too young, then Sammy's practically a baby." She looked at Sam and winked. "But what an appealin' babe he is." She grinned.

Dean frowned. "Whatever," he growled. Then he walked to the car and opened the trunk.

Vee giggled. "He has always been so easy to rile," she said to Sam. "You take o' him, ya hear? An' yerself."

Sam nodded, smiling. "I will. And you know the phone works both ways, right? You can call us from time to time, just so we know you're okay. And maybe you can share any news you hear."

Vee reached out and he took her hand. She squeezed it and grinned. "If I was ten years younger, I'd be bird doggin' you somethin' serious. Though, I think I'd have to walk around with a ladder," she laughed. "Take care o' you, hear?"

He chuckled. "You, too." He squeezed her hand, then released it. Then he walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. "Thanks for everything, Vee."

Dean opened the driver's side door. "If you hear anything you think we need to know…"

Vee nodded. "You two be safe. Have a nice drive to Texas."

They got in the car and it roared to life. Vee watched as it moved down the dirt road away from her home. Once it disappeared, she moved into the house and closed the door.

_A/N Postscript: Every time I watch Season 1, I am struck by the depth of the facial wounds inflicted by the daeva in "Shadows" and the fact that there was no sign of anything in the very next episode. So, I started thinking how could this be possible? This was my explanation. _


End file.
